


Blank Beginnings

by huntinghunter



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, I just wanted them to be happy, I need y'all to vote if you want a happy ending or a morbid happy ending, Klance! - Freeform, Pidge gets all the freaking pronouns in this story, There is some graphic violence, Will add tags as the story progresses, You Have Been Warned, all the other characters might come in sporadically, fluff?, it gets dark at some point, might change the rating later, this story might be confusing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-11 13:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15973637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntinghunter/pseuds/huntinghunter
Summary: Keith finds a blank book, with a set of rules and lined paper. He decides to write fantasy stories in this book - and to fill his empty gay heart - he creates a fictional love character. His physic is always the same, his personality progresses through the stories, and his name always changes. Keith isn't very descriptive with his stories, which is okay. The book fills in the spaces with its' own ideas. Will the Keith fall in love with his fictional character or be torn apart from him?





	1. Blank Pages

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Annzy_Bananzy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annzy_Bananzy/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be straight with ya'll, I'm only posting this so that AO3 won't delete it from my drafts XD Sorry. It might be a while before another chapter is posted, but I don't think it will be too long. This is still a very rough draft, that I don't know if I'm quite proud of yet... I hope you like it! Until next chapter
> 
>  
> 
> Loves~~

Keith scurries across the street, narrowly missing the honking car that tried to run him over. He all but slams into the door of the shop, tripping backwards and taking the door with him. He enters the small store hurriedly, letting out a long sigh of relief he inhales in the smell of book and dew. His muscles relax as he gets lost in the overcrowded isles, stepping over several piles of books here and there. He finds the general fantasy section, beginning the search for a new book. Keith absolutely adores fantasy, he loves getting lost in the stories where mythical creatures roam, away from reality. Thankfully, this genre is in the corner of the shop, and very few people are rarely here - in this section and in the shop in general. He takes a seat up against a bookshelf, taking out his water bottle and his old Apple iPod, skimming the overflowing rows in front of him. Every now and then, he’ll take off a well worn book, reading the summary as well as the first few pages before inevitably putting it back in its’ place. This is a ritual for Keith, one he’s been doing since he moved to this small town. There’s not much to do, though I guess that’s what comes with a small town, and for the fact he’s not exactly welcome in most facilities.

The whole reason Keith is even in this town, is because of his parents. He’s 21, and planned on living with his parents for a couple of years while he saved up to buy an apartment closer to his workplace, a law firm that his father owned. The plan was for Keith to take over when he moved out. At least, that was until Keith came out to his parents as being gay. The rest was a blur; they kicked him out, cut off their shared bank accounts, fired him from the firm, and even got the rest of the suburb to chase him out. Keith stole the family car, and drove until it ran out of gas. That’s when he found this town that, thankfully, had a really cheap, cute house for sale that Keith bought with the last of his savings. He got a job fairly quickly, and even made friends. That is, again, until some of the town’s folk found out he was gay. Keith hazily remembers telling one of his ‘friends’ that he was gay when drunk at a bar. After that, he was shunned, but they didn’t try and chase him out with pitchforks, and even let him keep his job. Still, it’s tough not being liked. But Keith only has enough money to continue paying rent in his little house and food, he barely has any extra spending money. And what spending money he does have, he usually spends it here, in this small, dusty store no one seems to come to.

Keith’s there for two hours, lost in his thoughts as he mindlessly picks through the shelves, still not finding a book completely interesting. A simple black leather binding with gold and silver impressions catches his eyes. He hooks his find on the top - feeling the smooth pages of the book, almost like silk against his calloused fingertips - sliding it out of its tight home. Surprised at how light it is despite the bulk, he turns it over, finding no title or a summary. Opening it, he again finds no evidence of a title or even a publisher. He turns the page, surprised to see a bulleted list of rules.

_\- Once the book is filled, make sure to put it back where you got it_

_\- Fantasies come from our dreams that become reality_

_\- Must contain a fantasy element_

_\- Be descriptive_

_\- Be careful_

_\- Be short_

_\- Be sure to write a whole story in one sitting_

_\- Do not tear out pages_

_\- Do not write over the story guidelines_

_\- Do not write past the dividers_

_\- Do not lose the book or let anyone else see/write in it_

_\- You are not allowed to re-read the story more than once_

_\- Remember what reality is_

_~ Lance_

Keith furrows his brows, curious as to the beginning of this book. _Who’s Lance? The author maybe?_ He turns the next page, only to find small lined paper. He flips through the book to find a black page, gold and silver swirling across in an intricate design. _This must be a divider_. He continues to flip through the pages in hopes of finding more writing. Nothing. He closes the book, fully intending on putting it back, but something stops him. He’s always thought of writing his own stories, maybe this book can be his chance to write. Making up his mind, he hugs the book to his chest and stands, maneuvering his way back through the isles to the cash register.

The jolly old man behind the counter greets him with a familiar smile. “Hello, Keith. Finally found a book to catch your interest?”

Keith chuckles, laying the book on the counter. “I hope so, Lou.”

The older male slides the book closer towards him to see which one Keith had chosen. His smile falters only slightly. “You want this one?” he questions, his hand snapping away from the book as if it burned him.

“Yes… I’ve been thinking of writing my own stories for a while. This is a perfect opportunity, though it’s a little odd with the rules and all, it intrigues me.”

Lou smiles again, but something about it doesn’t seem right. It almost seems like Lou knew something Keith did not. “I hope to read one of your stories.”

“Thanks! Maybe one of these short stories will stick with me enough that I’ll want to write a whole book.”

“I’m sure one will.” Lou pauses for a few short seconds, Keith takes that as his cue to fish his wallet from his pockets. “Make sure to follow the rules,” Lou mumbles, his eyes never leaving the book.

Keith mock salutes him, until realizing how serious he is. “Don’t worry Lou. I’ll follow the rules, for you.” The other bobs his head. “How much?”

Lou waves his hands, gesturing to the book. “Free, if you bring it back when you’re done.”

“You want a book full of unedited fantasy stories by me?”

He finally looks up, his eyes meeting Keith with an eerie look that sends chills down the younger one’s spine. “Yes. I’d love to read about all the different stories when the book is completely full.”

“Alright then…” Keith grabs the book, hugging it back to his chest. “Guess I’ll see you again once this is full.” He waves, turning around and quickly hurrying out of the store.

Once out of earshot Lou laughs, long and loud, almost maniacal. “Goodbye, Keith.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*whispers* I'm asking this now in the first chapter. Please let me know if you want a happy ending or a happy ending that might fuck you up. It's still happy though, I promise! LET ME KNOW PLEASE.)


	2. Blank Pages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to quickly thank my best friend Annzy_Bannanzy for the amazing title and for helping me out with the story. I love you girl, you're constantly helping me out.  
> Few quick things, the lines are to separate reality and what Keith is writing. Yes, Pidge is in this chapter, and I will be using male pronouns for them. They will change later. Anyways, until next chapter!
> 
>  
> 
> Loves~~

Keith sluggishly crawls up the rickety old steps of the porch, sleepily trying to dig his keys out of his pocket. He rests his head against the chipped screen door, pulling at the small handle and hearing the creak of its hinges. The door stubbornly refuses to open as Keith jiggles the keys in the lock. Frustrated, he yanks the door towards him, turns the keys again, and thanks all heavens that it opens. Stepping inside the small entryway, he kicks off his shoes before opening another creaky wooden door into the small kitchen. Keith drops his keys onto the old table, happy for the fact that this house came completely furnished with the old owner’s things. He would’ve found it weird, using someone else’s furniture, but he was broke and needed a place. Now, the furniture - even if the couch has rips in it, or the table is covered with a 50-year-old tablecloth with sunflowers, and the beds are almost rotted out, and the tv is older than he is and doesn’t have cable - gives Keith comfort because it’s lived in. The house itself feels lived in, which makes it feel like home. 

Keith falls onto the bigger couch, sighing with relief. He turns his head to the side, his eyes finding the book on the wooden coffee table in front of him. He hadn’t gotten the chance to write in the book at all, for work had gotten busy, and all his free time was spent sleeping. Pulling himself into a sitting position, Keith looks at the marble cart in the corner for a pen. Unsuccessful, he stands, making his way over to the bookshelf, opening the drawers and cabinets, finally locating a pencil. Sitting back on the ripped cushion, he grabs the book, opens it, and sets in on his lap.  _ What to write about…  _ Keith stares at the blank lined page for a long time, debating on what to write. He can’t even remember the last story he’d written, it had been so long. All Keith can remember writing about is dragons. He used to love dragons, of all shapes and sizes. Smiling to himself, Keith twirls the pencil in his fingers before beginning to write as neatly as he could on the paper.

* * *

 

_ The sun beats down on my face, heavy and warm, but not overbearing. I let out a whoop, it being quickly swallowed up by the wind. My hands tighten on the cool scales, finding perch and comfort. Massive wings beat beneath my legs, a long spiked tail whipping behind me. Red - whose name I chose because of her dark red scales - growls, the sound rumbling low in her throat right beneath my fingertips. I soothe those scales by running my fingers over them, smoothing them down. _

_ “Alright Red, let’s go higher,” my voice barely gets out before she pushes forward, her wings beating rapidly to pull up above the clouds.  _

_ Though I’ve seen this view a hundred times by now, I still feel my breath leave me when we finally surface. The sun finds its way between the clouds, bright and orange. My shoulders relax as I sit up straight, Red gliding through the air. Nothing felt more relaxing than being here, on the back of Red, above the clouds. She snorts below me, ruffling her scales to signify a nearby dragon. I immediately tense up, my hand grabbing for the staff on my back.  _

_ A large purple snout pokes out from the clouds, followed by angry glowing yellow eyes. Red snorts in alarm, reflexively snapping her body to the side, hiding us beneath the clouds. Red starts frantically flapping her wings to get some distance between us and the rebel dragon. With my free hand, I quickly pick through the satchel to pull out an old dragon horn. I put the tip to my mouth, blowing as much air into it as I can. The sound echoes through the air, and I can only pray now to hope backup comes soon.  _

_ Out of nowhere, the purple dragon swoops down from above, its claws narrowly missing me as they come to dig into Red’s scales. She howls in pain, rearing her head to snap at the other dragon. I myself, turn as much as I can in my position to jab my staff upwards. The tip is multiple jagged dragon stones, which is the only reason why my staff plunges into the belly of the rebel dragon. It roars in pain, giving Red the opportunity to wrap her jaws around its neck and fling it off her. _

_ I only have a chance to let out a small sigh of relief before another dragon appears beside us, this time, with a rider. I glower at the man, readying my staff to attack him. He smirks at me, as if proud of something. I tap my hand on Red’s neck, our silent signal to get the hell out of here. She whines in pain but complies, jerking forward with powerful thrusts of her wings. Red is one of the fastest dragons out there, she can easily outrun one or two rebel dragons. Several battle cries sound behind us, and I can almost hear my heart drop. Molton hot fire barely licks at Red’s tail, other fire appearing right at Red’s left side. Turning to the right, I come face to face with a rebel dragon’s jaws, fire burning in its throat. Years of fighting dragons saved my life, for I had enough time to swing my staff up, whacking the dragon’s head so hard, it pushes its snout just as fire spills from its mouth. Red suddenly drops, pulling us away from the dragons trying to cage us in. _

_ She takes us below the clouds, beginning a rapid descent to try and put some distance between us. Sadly, there is no land in sight, so there is no hope to lose them in the trees. The only downfall about leaving the dense clouds is now Red and I are just sitting ducks. Out of nowhere, I pitch forward, losing my positioning in the saddle. Red lets out an alarmed noise when I try grappling onto her. She attempts to bite at my clothes as I slip off her neck, but she misses. _

_ Then I’m falling, down, down. I fall a good 15-20 feet before my back collides painfully with the water. My clothes and satchel weigh me down as I struggle to breach the surface of the water. Finally, after what feels like ages, I surface, taking in grateful amounts of air. My eyes easily find Red, whose thrashing in the sky, a long chain around one of her wing joints, fire spewing from her jaws. I can only watch in terror as purple dragons continue to descend into view. Dread swirls in my stomach, for Red and myself. _

_ It’s migration season. I watch in mild horror as a dead dragon plunges into the water a few feet from me. I look around helplessly for some sort of land, yet find nothing. I keep my eyes on Red, yelling up to her to keep her fighting, to give her comfort. I know it helps because another purple dragon plummets into the water, a little too close for my liking. Scales caress against my legs, and I brush it off as being part of the dragon. I am not that lucky though. A hand creeps up my thigh, only disappearing when I jump away. I think the worst, not very surprised when a head pops up from the water. My limbs freeze up, almost forgetting the fact I need to move to keep myself afloat. She gives me a sweetly sinister smile, her incisors peeking past her lips. I knew I was more than screwed then. I can feel her tail wrap around my legs, trapping me in her clutches. Without much thought, I point my spear at her, snarling to hopefully show I’m not afraid. I don’t think it works.  _

_ She snarls right back, her somewhat calm features quickly turning furious. I don’t get a chance to take a good breath before she’s pulling me under the water. I let out bubbles of surprise, squirming to get out of her hold. Her webbed fingers swipe at me, though I sluggishly block them with my spear. I twist it around quickly to jab her with it, happy to successfully knick her waist. She shrieks, her tail loosening enough for me to kick free, thrashing all the way to the surface. I only get to take in a small gulp of freedom before I’m being pulled back into the murky depths. She looks more than pissed now, pulling me down deeper and deeper. The pressure begins to build up the quicker we go down. Her nails dig into my thighs, not seeming at all phased by my kicking. I thwack her with the blunt end of my staff, putting as much force as I can. Finally, as if by a miracle, I hit her in the eye. She lets out a shrill, pulling back to clutch at her injury. _

_ I kick upwards, my eyes fixating on her to make sure I’m ready if she comes back to me. Only a few seconds pass before she’s searching for me with one good eye. Movement behind her has me forgetting the fact she’s swimming at me, for a large jaw comes out from the darkness. She doesn’t seem to notice until teeth cloud her vision. Her scream gets cut off with the snapping of the monster’s jaw. My own drops, screaming bubbles. This seems to catch the monster’s attention. I can only watch as the massive creature circles around me, almost as if torturing me by prolonging my inevitable death. It snaps its long head towards me, lunging forward with its mouth open wide. _

_ Long, warm, soft talons wrap underneath my armpits, hauling me out of the water at lightning speed, leaving the monster behind. Finally out of the water, I breathe in deep breaths of air, shakily looking up to see who it is. The underbelly of a green dragon looks oddly familiar, and my suspicions are confirmed when a small head rounds into my view. _

_ “Pidge! What are you doing here?” I ask nonchalantly. _

_ “Green heard your horn. Obviously, we had to come save your ass from yet another deadly situation.” _

_ I roll my eyes, attempting to cross my arms over my chest. “I had it handled.” _

_ “Of course you did.” This time, Pidge rolls his eyes, sitting back up in the saddle. “I had to go save your dragon too.”  _

_ I huff. “Red can handle herself.” Though secretly I wish that Pidge saved her first. We’re best friends, Red and I. Last time I saw her she was surrounded.  _

_ “Of course she can. That’s why we had to save her and drag her away from the remaining rebels.” I grumble. “She’s in really bad shape right now Keith. You and her have a lot of healing to do. Be ready for a scolding.” _

_ “Yeah, yeah. I don’t need to hear it from you.” _

_ “I know. Besides, you won’t listen to me. You only listen to our leader.” _

_ “You got that right.” I slump in Green’s hold, dazilly looking at the scenery go by. “Am I going to be down here for the whole ride?”  _

_ “Yup,” Pidge pops his ‘p’.  _

_ A few beats of silence pass before I speak again. _

_ “Where’s Red?”  _

_ “On the back of Yellow, to your left.”  _

_ My head snaps to the side to find Red, sure enough, draped on top of Yellow. She lifts her head meekly, eyeing me as if searching for wounds. She looked in a lot worse shape than me. _

You’re hurt. _ Her voice rings through my mind. _

Not as bad as you. Don’t worry girl, I’ll bring you to the healer as soon as we get home. Rest now.

_ She nods her head, before dropping it against Yellow’s side. Almost immediately, snores pour from her nostrils. Yellow and Green snort in laughter. _

* * *

 

Keith rolls his neck, re-reading the last sentence a couple of times, satisfied with the turnout. He lifts his hips off the couch to reach into his back pocket, pulling out his phone to check the time. Seeing a 1:15 am flash back at him, he decides to call it a night. He can re-read the story later, to catch mistakes and see how rusty he’s gotten. 

He closes the book, resting it back on the coffee table before standing up. Keith takes his time to stretch out his limbs, hearing satisfying pops. He trudges through a small archway, taking a left into the master bedroom. He doesn’t need to walk far for the dresser, picking through his pajama pants for a clean pair. He turns on the box fan resting atop the dresser, walking back out into a short hallway for the bathroom. 

He goes to sleep that night with a slight smile on his face, waiting to have enough free time to go through what he wrote.


	3. Blank Bandages

Keith doesn’t have time to even think about looking at the book until the following Friday. He specifically asked to be off work Saturday because he deserved a break. One thing that used to relax Keith was writing or editing his own stories. But… the book did say he couldn’t edit his stories. That doesn’t mean he can’t copy them over to another notebook and edit them that way.

With his mind made up, Keith grabs the book, that still sits on the coffee table from the last time he had touched it. He brings the book into the master, flopping onto the old mattress and nestling himself up against the pillows. _I can’t wait to see how many mistakes I made_ , Keith chuckles to himself. He flips open the cover, opening to the beginnings page of his story. Instead of finding his chicken scratch, he finds neat calligraphy writing adorning the pages. The lines are long gone, the text flowing freely about the page in neat lines. Keith rubs at his eyes, reading the first couple of lines to make sure what he’s seeing is actually real. Just as he debates seeing a doctor, his head pounds, knocking the breath from him. He gulps for air like he’s drowning, dropping the book and clutching his chest as he flops onto his side. Then darkness. Nothingness.

* * *

  _Keith’s vision is just a bright white, even though his eyes are firmly closed._ What is that? Where am I? _All he can see is white. It’s practically blinding. Slowly, his sensations come back to him in parts. First, he feels warmth, calm, and pleasant. It’s weird to feel it, not knowing exactly where it’s coming from or where on his body he’s feeling it. Secondly, he begins to feel what’s underneath his fingertips, wind whipping at his cheeks, something scaley beneath his bare feet, and something between his thighs, alive and moving. Thirdly, his smell comes back to him. The smell of an animal, a smell that’s almost familiar but foreign at the same time. He also smells salt and that certain scent the air gets when you get high enough up. Fourthly, he hears the wind whipping around him, the flapping of something near him, his own breathing and the breath of whatever is underneath him. The last thing that comes back to him is his sight. Slowly and hazy. He has to blink his eyelids a few times to really see what’s in front of him._ Holy shit! _Keith’s body jolts in the brown leather saddle, almost falling off of the dragon -_ A Mother-Fucking Dragon - _underneath him._ I’m riding a dragon! I’m. Riding. A. Dragon. _Keith tries not to hyperventilate._ Dragon’s don’t exist. This isn’t possible. How the fuck did I get here? _The scales underneath him get warmer, heating his body wherever it touched with the dragon. It wasn’t an overbearing warmth though, it felt as though it was meant to make him feel more at ease. Keith gulps down his nerves, instead focusing on the dragon. Red scales. Deep red scales that darken, almost into black. A long neck leading to an angular face, sharp rounded horns rest atop its’ head, with a short sharp snout. The wings beneath his feet beat, causing Keith to turn his attention towards them. Almost bat like red wings flap through the air, powerful. Keith doesn’t dare turn behind him to know that a long tail should follow. All at once, a resounding name runs through his mind._ Red. _Keith blinks in surprise, looking the dragon over again._ It can’t be… this is exactly how I imagined Red would look. Am I… in my story? No. I can’t be. I must be going insane. _Suddenly, his mouth opens to let out a whoop into the air. It was hard, with the wind pushing at him, he barely got any sound out of his throat._ Why the fuck did I just whoop? _His hands tighten on the now cool scales, somehow calming down slightly._ Why am I so calm right now? I should be freaking the fuck out. I’m on a motherfucking dragon! _Yet despite his frantic thoughts, Keith remains fairly tranquil. Red growls, startling Keith as her throat literally vibrates beneath his fingers. Despite how violently he is shaking, he finds himself running his fingertips over the smooth scales, surprised at how they felt._ Almost like the finest silk. 

_ Keith’s mouth opens once more without his permission. “Alright Red, let’s go higher,” he mumbles, barely able to finish his sentence before Red is pushing forwards into the oncoming clouds, bringing them up, and up, and up.  _ No. I don’t want to go higher. I want to go lower. To get off this thing. Why did I say that?! 

_ They fly out of the clouds in a fluid motion, Keith’s breath catching in his throat.  _ Holy shit…  _ The sight before him, he can barely describe. It looks like an ocean of clouds, with little tufts peeking out to create fluffy mountains. The sun just dips beneath the cloud ocean, big and bright, a mix of orange, yellow, and red hues. Somehow, it feels nostalgic to Keith, though this is the first time he’s ever seen this view.  _ It’s beautiful. _ His shoulders relax as he sits up straighter in the saddle, throwing his hands into the air to catch some of the clouds that pass by. They feel cold to the touch, dense yet slipping through his fingers with ease. Despite his situation, his muscles loosening the longer he stares at the sun. He doesn’t even care if it’s bad for him at this point, it’s too beautiful not to look.  _ Am I in my story? Could that even be possible? No, there’s no way. 

_ Red snorts, the sound loud and sudden. Keith could feel her snort, his whole body could. He just understood that it meant danger. His body reacts before his mind catches up, reaching behind himself. His fingers wrap against cold, hard wood, bringing a long wooden spear in front of him. White and red feathers along with a few sharp pointy teeth, decorate the staff right below the arrowhead. The spear itself looks like a long hiking stick, it’s bark chipped then sanded to smooth the rough edges. The spearhead is multiple dark black scales, sharpened to a point and tied together for strength. Keith doesn’t get to marvel at the staff for much longer, for a humongous purple snout creeps out from the clouds, followed by a chubbier face, long pointed horns, and slitted glowing yellow eyes.  _ The rebel dragons _. Keith wants to open his mouth to warn Red, to tell her something, anything about what he knows is going to happen.  _ Why can’t I open my mouth? Why can’t I tell her? Why do I think she’d understand? 

_ Suddenly, Keith’s world is tipping, almost falling from his spot as Red snaps her body to the side, diving into the clouds for cover. Keith blinks rapidly to see in the dense clouds, which are somehow significantly darker than they were before. Keith twists his body in the saddle, grabbing at his satchel which whips around violently in the wind. He struggles a little bit, seeing as the satchel was loose in the wind.  _ Why is this so damn difficult!? _ Finally grabbing a hold of it, Keith unhooks the top, flipping it over and finding only a small browning horn inside. He takes it out, mulling over the bumps and crevices before pressing it to his lips, and blowing air into it. The sound is weird, foreign to Keith’s ears, but also familiar. Now that Keith thinks about it, him blowing the horn is probably why - rationally - the dragon would find them in the clouds. That knowledge weighs down on Keith.  _ My fault. All my fault. _ Though Keith knew, his body still startles when the purple dragon appears above them, crashing down on top of Red, knocking the horn from his grasp. He gets squished beneath the underbelly of the rebel dragon and Red, feeling most of the dragon’s weight.  _ This thing is going to crush me to death.  _ A crunching sound is sickening to Keith’s ears, turning he notices it’s the rebel dragon’s talons sinking through Red’s tough scales. Keith almost gags, the smell of blood fresh in his nostrils. Red lets out a painful howl, the sound rattling Keith. He can feel the pain of her voice, his heart throbbing in his chest. Keith tries not to think as his body turns, lifting the spear roughly to stab into the rebel dragon’s belly. The spearhead slices through its’ body like butter. Blood freely runs down the spear, onto Keith’s hand, some even dripping on his arm and cheek. Keith feels bile raise up in his throat, wanting to quickly rub the -  _ warm, sticky, slick -  _ blood smearing between his fingers. The dragon roars, long and loud, its’ head snapping from side to side. The scales beneath Keith ruffle as Red raises her long neck, teeth easily sinking into the other dragon’s jugular. Keith can’t look away from the sight. The dragon practically gurgles, blood pouring from its’ lips as Red dislodges it from her. Its’ talons rip from her scales, taking chunks of flesh with it. Keith does gag when his spear pulls out from its’ belly, blood splattering everywhere like a murder scene. Keith watches the now dead dragon plummet until he can’t see it anymore.  _ This is a fucking nightmare. 

_ Keith sighs, relieved to have one problem solved, yet knowing this is far from over. Another purple dragon appears from the dense clouds, seemingly out of nowhere. This time, a rider sits on a saddle similar to Keith’s.  _ I’m so glad I didn’t write us fight.  _ The rider is dressed in silver metallic armor, purple highlighting major joints, a brighter purple insignia glowing on the chest plate. A helmet covers whatever hair and ears the man has, plus most of his face - except his mouth and chin.  _ Purple skin? I didn’t write the rider to have purple skin…  _ Keith glowers at the rider, though inside his stomach churns with nerves. The rider’s lips pull into a grin, one that shows the rider knows more than he lets on.  _ Fucking creepy. _ Keith gently taps the fingers of his free hand against Red’s neck.  _ Let’s get out of here girl.  _ Red whines in pain and Keith can feel that hollow sensation again, almost as if knowing exactly the pain Red is in. She thrusts her wings, pushing them forward as a chorus of battle cries sound behind them. Keith’s heart drops, although knowing he’ll come out of this unscathed.  _ Red will not. 

_ Keith’s back warms as fire spews from an unknown dragon through the clouds, barely touching Red’s tail. More fire crackles to the left of them, Red reflexively lifting her wing to shield him. Keith forgets for a moment, a blissful moment, that a dragon is to his right. Sure enough, when Keith turns, he suddenly remembers that he almost dies. With a morbid fascination, Keith watches fire build in the dragon’s throat, hot breath practically suffocating him. If someone ever asked him to describe what that was like, he wouldn’t be able to. He can’t even believe it’s happening in front of him. In a matter of seconds, Keith swings his staff around, knocking the dragon’s snout to the side with a hard blow just as its molten hot lava spews out. What Keith is not expecting, is the fire to singe the clothes on his shoulder, burning the skin underneath. Keith screams in pain, his free hand clutching at his shoulder, tears pricking his eyes as he curls up on himself. His body trembles from the pain, his injured arm spasming. Red purrs, her scales cooling to comfort him, before she’s dropping out of the sky.  _

_ Keith feels weightless, like when you suddenly drop on a rollercoaster. Except for this time, there’s no handlebars or seatbelts to stop him from lifting from the saddle. Not being able to use his arms, Keith clamps his thighs around Red’s back, praying that it’ll be enough to hold him. They dip out of the clouds, angled almost vertically towards the water. Keith presses himself against the back of Red’s neck, blinking rapidly to search for land.  _ Maybe, just maybe, they’ll be a landform. Apparently, things happen that I didn’t write. Maybe there’s land. _ Sadly there is none in sight. Abruptly, Keith pitches forward, without much purchase on Red’s saddle as it is, he tumbles forward. He rolls down Red’s neck as she lets out an alarmed noise. Keith tries burrowing the nails on his good hand into her scales, but he doesn’t want to hurt her, and his arm feels numb. Then he’s freefalling, seeing Red attempting to grab him gently with her teeth. But… she misses.  _

_ Air whips around him as he falls, his limbs whipping around in the wind like ragdolls. Keith can’t even scream because of the power of the wind.  _ I’m not going to die. I’m not going to die. _ Keith repeats this phrase to himself, his eyes closing as he continues to fall. However, this does nothing to silence his nerves. Then, Keith is connecting with the water, a rough slap to his back, feeling as though a thousand tiny daggers are stabbing him all at once. The coldness of the water stiffens his muscles, his fresh burn stinging. He debates letting go of his staff, but his fingers refuse to unravel from it. Keith instead, yanks off his satchel, knowing there’s nothing inside it. He kicks to the surface, breathing deeply through his nose. His eyes immediately find Red, watching in regret as she flails in the air. A long, jagged looking chain digs into her wing joint, and Keith can see the blood from his spot where the chain digs into her scales. Fire cascades from her mouth, aiming at all the dragons descending from the cloud cover.  _ She’ll live. She’ll survive this. I wrote it. _ Even though Keith knows she’ll be okay, he still can’t help but watch her, to make absolutely certain she’s okay. She seems to be, for she rips her jaws into a rebel dragon that comes a bit too close to her, sending it down into the water near him. The water sways from the disturbance, slowly turning red from where the dragon slowly sinks. My eyes move from the spot to turn in a 360 for land.  _ There’s no land. Stop looking. Watch Red. Make sure she’s okay.  _ Keith’s thoughts are frantic, as he turns to look at her again. She struggles, another chain pulling her other wing joint. Keith howls up at her, his throat quickly becoming hoarse, but he continues. He wants her to be okay. He wants her to win against every dragon that dares come near her. She gets another dragon, her talons ripping its neck to shreds.  _ Wait…  _ Keith becomes acutely aware of the water. The way it moves as he kicks his feet and gently sways his good arm. The dragon comes crashing down beside him, spraying him with water. Keith turns his head to avoid the small wave, rubbing the salt from his eyes to feel scales brush against his leg. He gulps, already knowing what it is, but his body still jumps when he feels a hand creeping up the side of his leg. He remains somewhat calm as a head slinks out of the water. Her face is calm, beautiful even.  _ Wait… I’m actually attracted to her? I like her face. What the fuck is this story doing to me. I’m gay.  _ Keith feels slightly mesmerized by her human-like blue hair, smooth, dark, teal skin, scales scattered up her neck to her chin. Her gills open to the air, her lips parting slightly. Her eyes bore into Keith’s, bright crystal blue that reminds him of waves right before they hit the shore. Her hand is back, cold but gentle against Keith’s chest. Goosebumps raise on his skin, able to feel her claws through his shirt. _

_ Her irises dart around his face - briefly glancing at his shoulder, worry passing through her eyes but quickly disappearing as if it never existed - her lips pulling into a smirk. “Ooh, a handsome snack~ With… a mullet?” She sings, her voice light and smooth, like velvet. _

What the fuck. What the fuck!? I didn’t write that!  _ Ice cold terror runs down Keith’s spine, the blood draining from his face. He’s happy that he has to follow what’s written. For if he didn’t, his body would’ve probably frozen in fear, shutting down and causing him to drown. He doesn’t have to be forced to move, snapping his staff towards the mermaid to hopefully get her to go away, a snarl ripping its way past his lips. Though he knows that’s not what’s written. Her calm expression quickly turns hostile, snarling back at him.  _ Is she real? Or is she just a figment of my story? Why would she say that?  _ Keith’s thoughts are cut off when he gets hauled into the water. Her features are no longer human, her eyes blown wider, her skin a dark gray, strangely shark like fins on her arms, curving up the spine of her back. Her cheeks split open to reveal a larger mouth, teeth lining the inside.  _ Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.  _ Keith stupidly opens his mouth to let out a yelp, but only bubbles come out. Keith closes it to preserve the oxygen he does have. She doesn’t swim, so they continue to descend into the darker waters. He wishes with all his might to get the hell away from her. Her dead gaze boring holes into Keith’s soul. Her eyes blaze as she attempts to tear him apart with her claws. Keith’s movements are slow in the water, causing him to put more energy into his actions. He raises his staff in front of him, barely blocking her from ripping him open. He counters, effectively cutting her side. Her reaction is immediate, pulling away, a shriek flowing from her gills. Keith winces, the sound rattling his eardrums. Her long tail loosens around his legs enough for him to swim away.  _

_ Keith’s gaze is firmly focused on the clear water of the surface. His lungs constrict the longer he stays underwater. His vision whitens until Keith simply squeezes his eyes as his movements get more frantic.  _ Fuck. I’m not going to make it!  _ For a horrible second Keith actually believes he’ll drown. He can feel his body losing consciousness, his head light. His hand flings into the surface, he gives one more powerful kick to finally reach air. He almost chokes, taking in a deep, large gulp, before nails dig into his thighs and drag him back down into the water.  _ I hope I have enough breath for this.

_ He thrashes, seeing the blood leak from his new wounds. Keith tries getting out of her hold, going so far as to try and kick her. She simply hugs his legs to her and snarls again, continuing to go further and further down. Keith’s brain begins to hurt at the pressure, his ears pounding. Keith, in his anxiety-ridden state, simply drops the blunt end of his staff down in her general direction, putting as much energy into it as he can. He manages to barely knick her eye, her shriek loud and clear in the water. Keith finally releases his staff to use his injured arm to help wade away as quick as he can. He keeps his eyes trained behind her, now seeing the massive creature creep out of the murky depths. It almost looks like a Megalodon, mixed with a dragon and a Leviathan. If he could choke on his breath, he would. Even still, he finds himself needing to hyperventilate.  _ That thing is fucking horrifying.  _ Its jaw is similar to that of the mermaid’s, seemingly small until it opens, it’s cheeks splitting to reveal a larger inside, rows of long jagged teeth. It has a beard of tendrils and a face that spikes outwards. It also has large  _ \- impossibly ginormous -  _ wings, with smaller ones right underneath to help power it through the water. It has wide legs, stretching into massive webbed claws, similar to a dragon’s talons. Keith doesn’t dare look any further, surprised at how huge this monster actually is, and surprised at how much terror runs through him. He feels like shitting his pants, crying for his mother, and throwing up, but not necessarily in that order. The mermaid finds Keith quickly, blissfully unaware of the fucking monster lurking behind her, staring her down hungrily. The monster comes out of the depths, easily catching up to the mermaid with one powerful thrust of its’ wings. Fear leaks into Keith’s veins as the mermaid realizes her death is coming. Her screams rattle Keith’s bones, not able to watch as the monster’s jaws bite down around her. He is, however, able to hear the audible snap of its’ teeth.  _ I’m going to have nightmares for the rest of my life. I’m never stepping into the ocean again. Or any large body of water. 

_ Keith can feel his lungs start to burn as he peeks his eyes open, not expecting the monster to be looking right at him. Keith lets out a scream of bubbles, the sound he creates foreign to his ears.  _ Holy. Fucking. Shit.  _ The monster's eyes are unlike the mermaids. They have life in them, emotions swirling around. Hunger, anger, the intent to fully kill and devour Keith in less than a bite. The creature careens forward, swimming around Keith in almost lazy circles.  _ It’s not going to eat you. It’s not going to eat you. You’re going to be saved.  _ Pure dread freezes his muscles, and he can feel the telltale sign of needing air quickly becoming apparent. The monster jerks its’ head towards him, lurching forward while opening its wide mouth. Keith’s muscles tense, waiting for a dragon to dive in and save him.  _ Come on. Where the fuck is my calvary!?  _ The monsters jaws are practically over him - the inside of its’ mouth just a fucking hair from him ( _ God there’s so many teeth. Why are there so many teeth!?) -  _ when Keith feels Green’s talons wrap around his shoulders. He screams again, bubbles cascading from his mouth as he is yanked from the water, Green’s claws pressing roughly against his burn. The monster follows them, jumping after them only to barely miss Keith’s toes, splashing back into the water. Keith violently coughs, breathing deeply. The pain in his shoulder is almost blinding, and he knows he’ll have to hold his tears in for a while. He looks up, relieved to see Green’s belly.  _ I never thought I’d be happy to see the underside of a dragon _.  _ Or… any part of a dragon anyways, because, they don’t EXIST.  _  A small angular face rounds Green’s waist. His face is slightly chubby yet sharp, bright orange eyes glimmering behind round goggles. His hair hangs down from the angle, poofy and all over the place. He simply wears a loose green jacket that flies around in the wind. _

_ His mouth opens despite how weak he feels. “Pidge!” his voice cracks. “What are you doing here?”  _

_ Pidge’s face pulls into a worried expression, Keith expected him to look…  _ Amused? Condescending? That ‘mom’ face. Not this.  _ “Green heard your horn. Obviously, we had to come save your ass from yet another deadly situation.” _

_ Keith’s eyes roll.  _ Deadly would be a fucking understatement.  _ Keith weakly attempts crossing his arms, hissing in immediate regret as his shoulder brushes uncomfortably with the rough texture of Green’s talons. “I had it handled.”  _ Definitely did not. 

_ “Of course you did.” Pidge’s worried expression turns scolding as he rolls his eyes and disappears from view. “I had to go save your dragon too.”  _

_ Keith begrudgingly lets out a huff.  “Red can handle herself.”  _

_ “Of course she can. That’s why we had to save her and drag her away from the remaining rebels.” Keith grumbles incoherent words under his breath but believes Pidge probably had to literally pull Red away from the battle. “She’s in really bad shape right now Keith.” He violently shivers at his name being said by Pidge. Finding it odd hearing his name come from the other’s tongue like they’d known each other all their lives. “You and she have a lot of healing to do. Be ready for a scolding.”  _ I won’t be here for that scolding. 

_ “Yeah, yeah. I don’t need to hear it from you.”  _ I really don’t. I already know what you’re going to say.

_ “I know. Besides, you won’t listen to me. You only listen to our leader.” _

_ “You got that right.” Keith barely mumbles as his body goes limp. Keith prolongs speaking again for as long as he can. Focusing instead on his breathing to null the pain. However, he only gets a few seconds before his mouth is forced open. “Am I going to be down here for the whole ride?”  _

_ “Yup,” Pidge laughs, popping his ‘p’.  _ Ass.

_ Keith’s chin twitches as he attempts to turn his head to look to his side as he asks, “Where’s Red?”  _

_ “On the back of Yellow, to your left.”  _

_ Keith’s head whips to the side, dizzy from how fast he moved. Keith can’t help but let out a bark of laughter at the sight. Red is just draped over Yellow in an awkward tangle of wings. She looks mighty awkward and almost babyish on the other dragon’s back. Red raises her head, eyes scanning his form, craning her neck forward as if to reach out to him.  _

You’re hurt. _ Keith gasps at the sudden voice in his head. It feels like someone stuck a wooden mixing spoon in his head and just, probed all over the place.  _

_ Keith squirms.  _ Not as bad as you. Don’t worry girl, I’ll bring you to the healer as soon as we get home. Rest now.

_ Red nods her head once before it drops like a sack of potatoes. Snores of smoke puff out from her nostrils. Yellow and Green snort with laughter at the sight. Keith also finds himself chuckling at her, hearing laughter from above him -  _ human laughter.

_ Keith turns his attention to in front of him, his eyes widening in fear as the dragons are simply flying into… nothing. It’s like the world Keith created in his story comes to an abrupt stop, fading into nothing but white. He begins struggling in Green’s hold, clawing at his talons to get away from the bright nothingness.  _

_ Pidge rounds Green again, his eyes flashing with a jumble of emotions. “Be safe.”  _

_ Keith practically chokes on his spit. He’s not able to even think of a reply, because they’re flying into the white light. Everything then just goes black. _

* * *

Keith jolts upright in his bed, choking on his own breath. He immediately jumps up, rushing to the bathroom before puking his guts out into the toilet. The memories come rushing back to him in bits and pieces, scaring the living daylights out of him. Keith briefly wonders if he’s actually going insane. That is, until his shoulder burns out of nowhere, specific points in his legs stinging. Keith rushes to discard his shirt, standing to look in the mirror. He’s alarmed to find a decently sized burn covering his entire shoulder and parts of his neck. _That actually happened?_


End file.
